“Oh, a regard, yes,” said Frances, “but I think that poor Edmund would be much happier, if he loved Lady Susan, and were married to her, than he will be loving you, and going to sea, and you marrying the Marquis, or some such person.” “That I will never do!” said Julia, with sudden energy. At this moment Edmund appeared coming towards them. Julia hastily put up her parasol, though the walk was perfectly shady. The parasol entangled in every branch, and she as hastily took it down again. Edmund now joined them, and offered an arm to each. Colonel Morven, however, whom they soon encountered, interrupted this arrangement, declaring that the walks were too narrow for three, and requesting Frances to take his arm. Thus they proceeded, with the rest of the party, towards the rock conservatory. Julia was unusually silent, but there was something in her manner more dangerous, if possible, than ever to Edmund’s right resolves. So true is it, that nothing can pass in the minds of those we love, without our knowing, at least, that there is something passing. And of what nature that something was, seemed in the present instance to be recognised, for he, too, became silent, yet, during that silence, both felt a conviction of each other’s affection, stronger perhaps than any they had before known. How often, how very often, when distance, both of time and place intervened, was the impression received during that, to both, for ever memorable day remembered, and attempted to be renewed, severally, by both; how often inwardly appealed to! How often called upon to contradict proofs, to bear down facts! But the misery of this species of evidence is, that though at the moment the most entirely convincing, it fades in absence to a mere dream of the imagination; and while, with strange inconsistency, we find the greatest aggravation of our suffering, in the fear that we never did possess that of which we are thus lamenting the loss, we still do lament, and with the bitter feelings of those entitled to complain, that they have been bereft of all! A pretty general meeting of stray couples now took place in the conservatory, and many were the observations made on our hero’s perilous _couche_. After viewing various other beauties of the place, our party, at length, agreed that it was time to proceed to Arandale, which they reached without further adventure. Their arrival was soon followed by that of the Marquis of H⸺, and such other guests as were not of the immediate family circle. CHAPTER XXIII. … “In vain the sun hath set: Light, his glorious attribute, remains, And, in sportive triumph, takes ten thousand Shapes.” “The enchanter’s thunders roll afar, subside— Now roll again, and murmur o’er the wave.” The gala of the evening was to commence as soon as dusk, with illuminations, fireworks, and various entertainments out of doors, and to conclude with a masked ball, and unmasked supper within the Castle.